


Written Words

by Moon_Rose (Moonrose91)



Series: Everything Happens in the Coffee Shop [1]
Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Absent Parents, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shop, Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Arguing Parents, Bunny as a Human is really distracting, Divorce, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Illegitimacy, M/M, Okay there are technically minor spoilers for this in the tags, Orphans, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-28
Updated: 2013-12-09
Packaged: 2017-11-22 20:21:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 14,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/613932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonrose91/pseuds/Moon_Rose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Because there has been a severe lack of those on this kink meme (and everybody knows that a kink meme without coffee shop AUs can hardly be considered a proper kink meme at all), I present you this prompt:</i>
</p><p> </p><p>  <i>Bunny runs a small coffee shop with his best friend Tooth. Regulars include North, a Russian toy-maker who repeatedly tries to convince them to start selling eggnog all year long, the authors Sandy and Pitch, who are currently working on a collaboration (and bickering about how to end the villains character arc) and the college student Jack, who seems strangely interested in Pitch and prefers teasing him over writing his overdue essays.</i></p><p> </p><p>  <a href="http://rotg-kink.dreamwidth.org/1511.html?thread=1239271#cmt1239271">Prompt here</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Coffee Hop

_The Coffee Hop_  was a cheerful place that always seemed to be celebrating the springtime.  
  
Flowers decorated window boxes, on the inside, and the place was bright and cheerfully painted. There were tables and booths that filled the front space, sprawling around easily with wide enough 'aisles' between everything that people could move through easily.  
  
Coffee and tea were constantly sold, with fruit parfaits, and tarts, along with bagels and various other fruit or citrus based confection that could be made, with one case dedicated to whichever holiday was coming up, or had recently passed. The tags in front of the various pastries say what they are, along with additional information, such as if it is dairy or gluten free or even kosher while all nut based treats are in a separate case.  
  
Despite the fact it was late in the afternoon at the beginning of autumn and, in fact, nearly half past three, the coffee shop was practically empty.  
  
In fact, the only person in sight was a woman of Indian descent with brilliant violet eyes that darted up to the clock on the wall behind the counter as she wiped down the tables consistently.  
  
Every three minutes, without fail, her eyes would flicker up to the clock, her arm pausing in wiping the table she was working on down before she continued at the pointless task.  
  
Her black hair was cut short, just past her earlobes and held out of her face with clips that had hummingbirds on them. Under a white apron she wore a yellow top with sleeves buttoned to above her elbow and a green vest with a feather print on it that could barely be seen, the flared pants of the same print as the vest brushing the tops of her peacock blue shoes.  
  
“Where are they?” she muttered softly as she paused, again.  
  
“Tooth, what are you doing out there?” an Australian accented voice called out and Tooth looked over to the hidden staff door to find a tall, taller than her by just over a foot, employer glaring at her from under his fringe of brown, nearly black, hair.  
  
“Aster, I told you; I’m waiting for Henry to show up with Kalindi,” she answered and glanced back at the clock with a groan when she realized that only two minutes had passed now.  
  
Aster frowned a bit at that and crossed his tanned arms over his chest. “Did you remind him?” he questioned.  
  
“What kind of mother do you take me for? Of  _course_  I did! I reminded him four times today alone!” Tooth responded before she went back to rubbing down the table.  
  
“Tooth, if you rub down these tables anymore, you’re going to wipe the paint right off it. Put the towel behind the counter and sit down. I’ll get you some tea,” Aster stated.  
  
“You aren't British! Stop trying to give me tea all the time,” she squeaked out, and Aster crossed the room, resting his hands on her finely boned shoulders.  
  
“Tooth, you’re panicking. You need to sit down, take a deep breath, and call Henry again,” Aster stated and gently helped her sit down at a booth before he gently tugged the towel out of her hand.  
  
She sighed and pulled her cell phone out of her apron pocket, moving to dial as the bell jingles over the door. “Mama!” Kalindi shouted and Tooth’s head snapped up to find her scraped up five year old daughter who was basically Tooth at that age only with blue eyes, an outfit to compliment Tooth's own in the arms of a young man who looked like a ghost wearing sunglasses, a brown, torn, hooded sweatshirt, khaki pants, and tan sneakers, a scrape of his own peeking out from where he had the hood pulled up.  
  
“Kalindi!” Tooth shouted and was out of her seat and barreling towards the pair as her daughter sobbed ‘Mama’ and the young man easily handed her over, Tooth clutching desperately to her daughter, who clung back.  
  
“I’m sorry. I had to tackle her and wasn't very careful,” he explained and she stared at him, rubbing soothing circles across her daughter’s back.  
  
“What happened?” she demanded and he immediately answered, “She was crossing the street, in the cross walk and when the walk signal was going. Some idiot ran a red light and I tackled her out of the way. It was an accident, that part. I was trying to grab her, but I was a little off. She wasn't supposed to get hurt.”  
  
Tooth stared at the man who had saved her daughter’s life and eyed him. “Who are you?” she asked and he gave a smile, showing off brilliantly white teeth.  
  
“Jack Frost,” he answered shyly.  
  
He tensed when Tooth suddenly pulled him into an one-armed hug.  
  
“Thank you for saving my daughter,” she stated and Jack’s arms flailed a bit before he carefully hugged her back.  
  
Tooth then released him and focused on Kalindi, humming softly as she walked around the room, the little girl clinging tightly to her.  
  
“Well, I've got a first aid kit in the back. Take a load off,” Aster stated and Jack shook his head.  
  
“ I've got to go. But…The Coffee Hop. I’ll remember that. Bye Kalindi,” he called and quickly walked out, pushing instead of pulling and smacking his head into the frame before he pulled it open, quickly taking off.  
  
Later, when Aster is cleaning a squirming Kalindi’s injuries and Tooth’s muffled shouts from outside could be heard, he thinks on the young man who saved Kalindi in a way that could have severely injured  _himself_  if he hadn’t had that hooded sweatshirt on.  
  
Because, with this Tooth could use this incident as evidence against Henry in the next custody battle he would put her through.  
  
 _If_  Jack ever comes back that is.  
  
Aster resisted the urge to snort at that.  
  
He highly doubted he would ever see the ghostly pale boy here again.  
  
The next day he was proven wrong when Tooth walked into work from going to pick up Kalindi, Jack Frost right behind her.  
  
He wore a blue hooded sweatshirt now, but everything else was the same, including the fact he was holding Kalindi in his arms, though this time she was happily chattering.  
  
Aster was surprised.  
  
He was even more surprised when Jack came the next day, and the day after, always chatting with Kalindi, getting her to finish her homework and then fully distracting her better then North, Sandy, or even Kozmotis, who has actual experience with a daughter of his own (though he no longer talks about her and stares at the locket around his neck far more often than two years ago), ever could.  
  
Jack always compliments Tooth and Kalindi on their outfits, reciting how beautiful they look, like jeweled birds, earning a laugh from Tooth and a kiss on the cheek from her that has him blushing fiercely.  
  
It shows up easily on his face.  
  
Soon, Kalindi is Baby, or Baby Tooth, and Kalindi loves it, though Tooth sighs over it, and invites Jack to dinner, but he never accepts.  
  
By the end of the month, Jack is the one bringing Kalindi to the coffee shop when her school lets out and talking about how he's a college student at the local community college, often complaining about his essays and how boring they are.  
  
Aster has resigned himself to the fact Jack has turned into a regular.  
  
He'll just have to put up with the Easter Bilby jokes, for Tooth and Kalindi’s sakes.  
  
Somehow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, on our human versions of our favorite characters we saw in this part.
> 
> I made Tooth of Indian decent because her palace is in South Asia and India won the rock paper scissors tournament. Okay, not really, I just wanted to make her Indian, because I loved the image I had in my head with her having her violet eyes in contrast to that soft brown skin tone (I cannot describe skin color half the time and now is in that time) and I just…it was such a pretty image.
> 
> Bunny is Aster, from E. Aster Bunnymund. I just took out the ‘E’. I gave him brown, nearly black, hair because I just couldn’t help it.
> 
> Kalindi is Baby Tooth, and Tooth’s daughter in this, because I just couldn’t write a human AU without a Baby Tooth and Jack Frost/Baby Tooth platonic (and maybe some cutsie-crushing on Baby Tooth’s side) interactions.
> 
> Jack has albinism (and yes, I have done tons of research into the condition and how it affects everything and the types of it) because I like his little spirit self and I always kind-of see Jack as either frozen or with albinism because of how pale he is.
> 
> On those not there; Kozmotis is Kozmotis Pitchner, Pitch Black before he became Pitch Black in the book!verse. I…I just couldn’t use the name ‘Pitch Black’ as his real name. It will be his pen name however, so yay!


	2. Pitch Black and S. Mann

It was an overcast Saturday at  _The Coffee Hop_  and, like most Saturdays, two men had absconded with one of the booths towards the back.  
  
Aster could set his calendar by the pair, especially since they began their collaboration.  
  
One was a short and plumpish man with pale tan skin that had a dusting of freckles all over, almost in a parody of the night sky, blonde hair wild and bright as the sun. The other was his exact opposite; pale as moonlight, he had hair as black as a moonless night, neatly combed back, taller than Aster by a few good inches, but seemed far more towering due to his bearing and the fact he was rail thin.  
  
To Aster they were Kozmotis and Sandy.  
  
To about half the world, they were Pitch Black and S. Mann, two of the most semi-prominent Young Adult fantasy novelists of the most recent times.  
  
Aster didn’t see the appeal in their books, but he always preferred historical fiction.  
  
The collaboration was a huge secret, supposedly, but as the world at large had no idea about it, Aster figured it had to be.  
  
“You cannot end it that way,” Kozmotis hissed lowly at Sandy.  
  
Sandy glared at him, crossing his arms, and Kozmotis ignored his shift of posture. “If you are going to kill the man, at least make it worth it,” Kozmotis continued and Sandy rolled his eyes before he signed something so fast that he made Aster’s head ache.  
  
“Just because  _you_  like the idea of having him thrown by his own horse and then trampled to death doesn’t mean it is a death benefiting it! Besides, we want it resolved. Killing the man off does not resolve it,” Kozmotis argued when the bell rang.  
  
Aster looked up to greet the customer only to raise an eyebrow to see Jack dressed in what he usually wore, only this time with a walking staff, hiking boots, a packed bag on his back, and wearing gloves, along with a visor that matched his hoodie. “Why are you dressed like that frostbite?” Aster asked as Jack made his way through the tables and chairs easily, giving a cheerful wave and smile to where Kozmotis and Sandy were sitting before he focused forward again.  
  
“Tooth called me and said Kalindi’s Girl Scout Troop was going on a hike. She cleared it with the den mother and I went over the list of things parents were required to bring, so I am heading out with her. She said she’d bring Kalindi here,” Jack answered with the tiniest shrug, oblivious to the fact Sandy was now ignoring a slowly growing more irritated Kozmotis to walk over to Jack, easily a foot and a half shorter then Jack.  
  
He was fixing his glove a bit, nose scrunched up slightly when Sandy tugged on the bottom hem of his hooded sweatshirt.  
  
Jack jumped slightly and looked down.  
  
“Oh, sorry,” Jack said and immediately knelt down so he was at Sandy’s eyelevel, surprising Aster as Jack was continuously disrespectful with him, calling him the Easter Bilby (or when he was being really mean spirited, the Easter  _Bunny_ ), though he leaned back slightly, as if trying to keep Sandy out of his personal space.  
  
Sandy’s hands began to move and, after a while, Jack shook his head while Kozmotis stood and strode over, moving as silently as a shadow so he could stand quietly some distance behind Jack, arms crossed across his black suit jacket in irritation. “Sorry. I…I don’t have my other sunglasses with me and I’m far-sighed. I’m having a hard time deciphering what you’re signing,” Jack answered and Aster gave him a warning look.  
  
“He asked how long you’ve been coming here,” Kozmotis translated and Jack nearly pitched forward while Sandy glared up at his fellow author.  
  
Jack was clutching at his chest and he turned, forehead knitted in what Aster was sure was a glare, a frown starting to pull at Jack’s face, before it changed to a wicked smile, head slowly tilting back till he seemed to be staring up at Kozmotis’s face. “Well, hello, pale, tall, and handsome,” Jack teased.  
  
Kozmotis tensed before he let out a snort. “I’m surprised you can see anything from behind those sunglasses of yours at all,” he answered and Jack let out a low laugh.  
  
“Light sensitivity, severe,” Jack returned and then turned away from Kozmotis and back to Sandy.  
  
“If you’re here tomorrow, I’ll be happy to talk to you then. I’ve got essays to finish anyway and my apartment is starting to make me feel like I am going to be crushed by four walls, so I was going to come here, meaning I’ll have my correct sunglasses tomorrow,” Jack offered and Sandy nodded.  
  
Jack grinned. “Thanks, little man,” Jack responded fondly, his voice warm.  
  
He then smiled and added, “The name’s Jack Frost.”  
  
Sandy smiled and gently grabbed Jack’s, free, gloved hand with both of his hands, and shook Jack’s hand. Sandy moved to sign before he huffed in irritation and Jack smiled a bit. “Don’t worry, you can ‘tell’ me tomorrow. My sign language is a little rusty though, so bear with me?” Jack answered.  
  
Sandy gave a thumb’s up but when Jack seemed to not understand, Sandy nodded obviously. Jack gave a nod back and then he was standing up slowly, turning to look  _up_  at Kozmotis.  
  
Kozmotis was nearly a foot taller then Jack and he leaned lightly on his staff, almost carelessly. His head tilted to the side as he stared up at Kozmotis. “Well, now I am at a disadvantage. I don’t know your name. And if I don’t get one, I’ll have to start calling you Mr. Voice Like Velvet and Melted Dark Chocolate,” Jack answered with a grin and this time Aster did snort.  
  
Kozmotis leveled a glare at Aster before he focused back on Jack, his smile still there. He then gave a low snort. “I don’t give my name to attention seekers,” Kozmotis answered and Jack’s smile became more lopsided, even as he laughed.  
  
“Well, Mr. Voice like Velvet and Melted Dark Chocolate, I’ll just have to guess it, then,” the young man answered.  
  
Kozmotis gave a smile. Well, it wasn’t a pleasant smile, but it was a smile, which surprised both Aster and Sandy.  
  
They had not seen him smile unless it was sadly at the locket for the past two years, since the divorce he did not talk about happened.  
  
A lot of things had changed about Kozmotis two years ago, and he did not talk about their cause, ever, just like he did not smile unless at the locket, ever.  
  
“I would  _love_  to see you try,” Kozmotis responded, voice sharp.  
  
“Oooh. A challenge. I never could back down from one of those,” Jack answered and he leaned forward as Kozmotis pulled himself up more.  
  
“This will be fun,” Jack stated and then pulled back, relaxing a bit.  
  
He then bought a fruit parfait and a bottle of water before he made his way to a booth to enjoy it. “Edward?” Jack called.  
  
Kozmotis did not answer. He just drifted, as silent as a shadow, back to the booth and pointedly ignored Jack, a scowl on his face. Sandy frowned a Kozmotis before he settled in his seat at the booth. “I’ll take that as a ‘no’ then,” Jack stated and he continued to eat the strawberry and blueberry parfait.  
  
He was done by the time the bell rang and Kalindi ran in, followed closely by Tooth, the pair wearing peacock blue form flattering shirts that had ‘feathers’ of violet scattered throughout the blue of the shirt. However, while Tooth wore a multi-layered skirt that the reverse of the shirt, while Kalindi wore jeans and good shoes.  
  
“Oh do my eyes deceive me or have two angels appeared before me in clothes of sapphires and amethysts?” he questioned as Kalindi laughed.  
  
“No silly! Mama made new outfits for us on Monday and I get to wear half of it today!” Kalindi exclaimed.  
  
Jack laughed and picked her up as he stood up himself from the bench seat. “Well, you both look lovely! Tooth, do you make all these jeweled garments that are from the birds of heaven?” Jack asked as he carefully returned his staff to his grip from where it was resting against the bench back.  
  
“Oh, Jack, you flatterer! But yes. No one else wants them but me and Kalindi,” she answered.  
  
“Well I love them. You know the way Kalindi?” he asked.  
  
“Yep!” she answered, curling her arms easily around his neck, but over the hooded sweatshirt.  
  
“Great. Now, let’s clean these things up, and we’ll be on our way,” Jack stated and Tooth waved him off.  
  
“I got it. You two are walking. Get moving,” Tooth shooed and Kalindi tightened her grip as Jack gave a bow.  
  
“As you command, my Queen,” he answered and she smacked his arm playfully as Jack walked past and Kalindi giggled.  
  
“Princess of my heart, which way first?” Jack asked as he pulled the door open with the hand that held the staff, slipping out carefully as Kalindi cried, “Around the corner!”  
  
“Near or far?” Jack questioned, but her answer was lost as the door shut behind them and Tooth shook her head at the pair before she collected up his dirty dishes.  
  
“However did you meet that…person?” Kozmotis questioned.  
  
“Kalindi did. And later that night, in case you are wondering Aster, she confirmed the course of the events,” Tooth answered as she walked to the back with the dishes.  
  
“You’re not on duty today Tooth, stop doing your job!” Aster called after.  
  
“Make me, big boy,” she teased and Aster rolled his eyes at that.  
  
“What course of events?” Kozmotis asked and Aster looked up.  
  
Before he could answer, Tooth was back in the front room. “Tooth can tell ya,” Aster stated and Tooth pat his cheek teasingly before she headed over to the writer’s table.  
  
“Henry didn’t pick up Kalindi from school about a month and a half ago. So, instead of having the office call me, my five year old girl decided to walk here. She was fine till she got to the final crosswalk to here. A car ran the red light and Jack tackled her. She said it seemed like he had tried to grab her, but was off, so they just barely got out of the way of the car instead, getting scraped up on the asphalt. And then he carried her here and apologized for scraping her up because he knocked her down to save her life. But I’ve only recently let him pick her up from school and he calls me the minute he gets her and tells me if he’ll be taking her somewhere else, but he always comes straight here. He’s responsible, so long as it was with Kalindi. With himself? Not so much. He’s come here early in the morning nursing hangovers many a time from having fun the previous night, but never around Kalindi. And never when he was going to be around her the next morning. He took her to the park last week, as a test run,” Tooth explained, preemptively cutting off Kozmotis’s protests before he could voice them.  
  
Kozmotis frowned a bit before he focused down on the collaboration. “He cannot be trampled by his horse,” Kozmotis argued and Sandy threw his hands up in the air in frustration.  
  
Tooth smirked a bit and then stood up, stretching. “Aster, Jack is going to be dropping Kalindi off here. Can you call me when they get here?” she stated.  
  
“Sure. Where will you be?” Aster asked.  
  
“Well, after I go talk to my lawyer about the custody hearing Henry’s managed to pull together; back to my apartment to work on some designs and before my appointment that got moved up to today,” she answered.  
  
“That’s wonderful, Tooth,” Aster responded and she smiled.  
  
“Yeah. So, I’m off. Here’s to hoping the clunker holds together,” she explained and headed out with a wave.  
  
Kozmotis never looked up. “What about giving him a heroic sacrifice to save his son’s only daughter?” he questioned and Sandy huffed, hitting his head against the table.  
  
Aster laughed a little at the reaction and focused on seeing if he could make some strawberry shortcake while business was slow.


	3. Toymaker

The late afternoon light was spilling through the windows as Kozmotis and Sandy continued to argue softly over how to end their villain’s character arc, Kozmotis’s voice a low hissing thing, like an angry snake, while Sandy’s hands flew. Neither so much as glanced up as the bell rang, but Kozmotis actually  _flinched_  when a voice, loud and booming, thick with a Russian accent, said, “Ah, Aster, where is eggnog?”  
  
Sandy grinned at the way Kozmotis curled over more, shoulders hunching up, and very focused on the paper in front of him, his calligraphy pen scratching lightly across the paper. “It isn’t even after Thanksgiving yet, you dag,” Aster returned and glared at the heavy set man with thick white hair, thick white beard, and sharp blue eyes, wearing red button up shirt and black slacks.  
  
“Should not matter. Eggnog should be a year round drink,” the man stated.  
  
“North, I don’t care what you think. Eggnog is only for Christmas,” Aster argued and North scoffed, before he noticed the writers in the corner.  
  
“Kozmotis, Sandy!” he greeted and he wandered over, Kozmotis scowling at his paper as he continued to write, splots of inks showing up now.  
  
“How goes book?” he questioned.  
  
Sandy began to sign, talking about creative differences. “We are not having him eaten by polar bears either,” Kozmotis snapped.  
  
North laughed and clapped a heavy hand on Kozmotis’s shoulder, nearly sending him head first into the table, though his pen ripped through the paper. “Kozmotis is right Sandy. Polar bears not valorous! You should have him ride nobally into battle and die upon the swords of his enemy!” North stated and Kozmotis sighed.  
  
“It’s the villain,” Kozmotis stated.  
  
North hesitated and then pat Kozmotis on the shoulder again, nearly smacking his face into the table again, this time his arm being between his head and the table being what saved him. "Polar bears good then," North stated.

Kozmotis growled lowly and shoved North's arm away from him. “We are  _not_  killing him by polar bear!” Kozmotis argued as the large hand slid off his back, in a manner.

The calluses that came from hard work caught on the suit jacket threads and Kozmotis hissed in irritation, taking off his suit jacket to reveal a shockingly white dress shirt as the bell rang once more.  
  
“Uncle Aster we need the First Aid kit!” Kalindi shouted and there was a grunt as the door hit someone.  
  
“No, I do not Baby Tooth!” Jack Frost answered and the three in the back corner turned to find Jack using the hiking stick like a really tall cane, hopping oddly as he moved forward.  
  
“I can tell,” Aster stated.  
  
“Uncle Aster, he’s not listening to me! He refused to let the Den Mother drive us here and he even tried to carry me! Uncle Aster, make him sit down!” Kalindi barreled on and Jack raised one gloved hand.  
  
“No, no. No one makes Jack Frost, King of Fun, do  _anything_ ,” Jack argued, still keeping off his left foot.  
  
“Who is this?” North questioned and Jack looked over with a sharp jerk of his head.  
  
The sunglasses hid his eyes and, in fact, with the visor lowered more, the hood pulled down more securely, only his lower face was open for interpretation.  
  
And it was as giving of expression as ice.  
  
Kozmotis was watching North beginning to run his hand over his mustache and beard combination, looking at Jack in appraisal. “I know that name,” North stated and Jack gave a shrug.  
  
“Well, no matter. I am Nicholas St. North. I own the toy shop around the corner,” North answered as he walked over and Jack let out a low sigh as Kalindi began tugging on his bag. He carefully swung it off and, the minute it was in his hand, Aster, who was waiting patiently, kicked the chair forward, having it hit the back of Jack’s knees.  
  
He let out a yelp as the chair hit him, forcing him to sit down, and frowned slightly but let his staff rest against his shoulder. “You could take your boot off,” Aster stated and Jack frowned.  
  
“No, I won’t. I’m fine. I need to head home,” Jack retorted and Aster snorted while North pat Jack’s back.  
  
The choking sound Jack made had Kozmotis smirking the smallest bit while Sandy’s eyes darted between the two. He then hopped down and Kozmotis glared. “Don’t you dare you little Harpo Marx Buddha!” Kozmotis warned and Jack began to cough, Aster keeping North from pounding on Jack’s back while Kalindi stared up at Jack with wide eyes.  
  
“Mr. Voice like Velvet and Melted Chocolate! Still here?” Jack responded once he was able to breathe and Kalindi giggled a bit, immediately climbing onto Jack’s lap, the young man easily holding her close while Kozmotis scowled.  
  
“Stop calling me that,” Kozmotis demanded lowly.  
  
“Only if you give me your name Velvety Liquid Dark Chocolate Voice man,” Jack responded cheerfully and Kalindi giggled madly from Jack’s lap.  
  
The young man grinned down at her and tugged lightly at her braided hair before he ran cautious fingers over the sleeve of her shirt, as if he was memorizing how the pattern felt over how it looked.  
  
“Boot. I need to see what you did,” Aster stated while Sandy paused, Kozmotis gliding over after him, probably with the intention to pick him up and haul him back, though Jack huffed while Kalindi giggled.  
  
“He stepped into a hole! Everyone else missed it, but he stepped right into it and wrenched his ankle,” Kalindi stated and Jack laughed, tickling Kalindi’s side.  
  
“I’m glad my pain amuses you, Princess,” Jack answered and she squealed with laughter as he continued to tickle her, the girl squirming and laughing as he did so, Aster glowering at Jack.  
  
“How you miss hole in ground?” North questioned and Jack huffed.  
  
“Didn’t see it,” Jack answered with a shrug and a lopsided grin spreading across his face as he wrapped an arm securely around Kalindi, keeping her on his lap.  
  
She just gasped and held onto him, still letting out sputtering giggles while Jack ignored Aster’s growing irritation. Sandy settled on a chair near Jack, watching him, eyes darting to the silent as a shadow Kozmotis.  
  
No one noticed the mischievous smile that began to grow on Sandy’s face, his fingers tapping together jovially before he schooled his entire body language into neutrality when Kozmotis began to glare at him.  
  
The glare only intensified when Sandy smiled innocently.


	4. Coffee and Tea

Kozmotis muttered lowly as he wrote out his newest book idea, for after the collaboration.  
  
It was not his fault that Sandy was late and the irritating little man had all of their research with him. He muttered a few curse words under his breath as he continued to write, crossing out a line before he continued, editing quietly as he went, easily shifting words around as he wrote on the thick parchment paper, eyes searching the lines and finding fault with a couple of other lines that he crossed out with a ferocity usually reserved for a mother bear protecting her young.  
  
“Hey, mate, you’ll scare off my customers if you keep muttering over there,” Aster stated and Kozmotis looked up long enough to narrow his golden eyes at Aster before he returned to his paper and Aster huffed before he walked over with a cup of tea, settling it on a clear space.  
  
“I thought Sandy had everything?” Aster asked.  
  
“He does. This is something else,” Kozmotis answered sharply and continued to write, his pen gliding with the ease of practice.  
  
The bell rang and Aster looked over. “Good morning Frostbite,” Aster greeted.  
  
“What’s good about it?” Jack shot back and Kozmotis turned to look over his shoulder at the young man, who was wearing the blue hooded sweatshirt, hood up, and the sunglasses were bigger than what he wore yesterday.  
  
“Those are new,” Aster stated, even as Kozmotis felt himself, still in writer mode, try to figure out what was setting him off about Jack.  
  
His eyes traveled to Jack’s feet, even as the young man answered, “What’s new? God, why am I even up this early?”  
  
“The sunglasses. You go out and have fun last night?” Aster asked, sounding smug, while Kozmotis noticed that Jack was wearing sneakers, a slight bulge in the cloth on the left foot suggesting a brace, though the cargo pants hid any confirmation from sight.  
  
“Oh, shut up you bilby! Don’t you have eggs to paint for Easter?” Jack shot back as he settled at the booth behind Kozmotis, and he turned around slightly to face Jack, who removed his messenger back, placing it with care on the table before him.  
  
“You know I have the right to refuse service, right?” Aster shot back.  
  
“Yep. And I’m sure Tooth will perfectly agree with that course of action,” Jack answered as he opened up his messenger back, pulling out a laptop and a pair of earbuds, fingers turning it on while he plugged the earbuds into the place they get plugged into, carefully flicking them away from the computer as he frowned at the computer.  
  
“She’s not in today,” Aster responded.  
  
“Oh, my beautiful birds are home today? Oh well. I was hoping to see the bejeweled treasures of your springtime shop today,” Jack retorted, a smile on his face, bright and…  
  
Kozmotis frowned, feeling his head tilt slightly to the side.  
  
Like glass, brittle and close to breaking.  
  
Aster opened his mouth, to ask maybe, when there was suddenly music playing, causing all three to jump.  
  
 _”I see a bad moon a-rising. I see trouble on the way. I see earthquakes and lightnin’. I see bad times today. Don’t go out tonight, well, it’s bound to take your life…”_  
  
The minute the song started, Jack had gritted his teeth, but he pulled out his phone and answered, cutting off the rest of the lyrics, if there were anymore. “Yeah?” he greeted.  
  
His fingers were massaging at his crinkled forehead and his shoulders were hunching. He had gone from playful to…negative in a blink of an eye.  
  
It intrigued Kozmotis.  
  
What could make the rather jovial and fun-loving student suddenly anything but?  
  
Jack let out a long sigh at whatever was said, his fingers moving slowly to his temple. “You know, that’s really not a concern of yours, is it?” Jack questioned sharply.  
  
Aster was watching the kid, but quiet while Jack bowed his head over whatever was being said. “Yeah, no. Not happening,” Jack retorted.  
  
Jack lowered his hand and began to tap his fingers on the table. “I don’t care, I’m not going over there,” Jack continued.  
  
After a few more minutes, Jack suddenly pulled the phone away from his ear and hung up, his mouth twisted into a dark scowl. Kozmotis wondered what his eyes looked like under the sunglasses. Where they icy or were they burning?  
  
Or were they nothing, still as calm water.  
  
His hand was clenched tightly around his flip phone and he was taking deep breaths, slowly sitting up normally until the song began going off again.  
  
He flipped it open and hit the ‘end call’ button before he pressed down on it till the sounds of it turning off filled the air.  
  
“What was that all about?” Aster asked.  
  
Jack pocketed his phone and gave Aster a lop-sided smile. “What was what all about?” Jack questioned.  
  
“That! That phone call! What was it about?” Aster asked and Kozmotis resisted the urge to snort in derision.  
  
Did he really think Jack would tell him?  
  
“What phone call?” Jack returned and Aster spluttered a bit.  
  
Jack sighed lowly, the smile gone, and he leaned back slightly. “Do I need to walk up to your cash register to order my coffee?” he questioned softly, and Kozmotis felt as if his heart was punched.  
  
He didn’t know why, but it silenced Aster as well.  
  
Jack just sounded so exhausted and it was as if something had collapsed within him. “Nah. Just give me a few dollars,” Aster responded.  
  
Jack gave a nod and opened his wallet, carefully extracting a five dollar bill folded in half length-wise and held it out to Aster. “Thanks,” Jack stated when Aster took it and then he popped one earbud in, settling his hands properly on the keyboard before he began to type, using his thumb to control the built in mouse.  
  
Aster nodded a bit and walked off while Jack did whatever it was he was doing on his laptop. “You never did answer Aster’s question about the sunglasses,” Kozmotis stated and Jack looks up with a smile.  
  
Kozmotis jerks his head back slightly in surprise.  
  
“Mr. Velvet Voice!” Jack greeted warmly, his smile inviting and  _real_.  
  
And whatever was broken seemed fixed.  
  
Kozmotis, however, scowled at the nickname even as he considered this change in demeanor. “I have a name,” Kozmotis reminded him.  
  
“Ah, yes. Our guessing game. James?” Jack questioned.  
  
“No,” Kozmotis intoned and Jack gave a smile.  
  
“Eugene?” Jack questioned and Kozmotis shuddered.  
  
“No,” he bit out.  
  
Jack grinned at that and Aster set the coffee cup down with a clink. “Black,” Aster stated and Jack saluted jovially.  
  
“Samson?”  
  
“Do I sound like a Samson to you?”  
  
“That wasn’t a no.”  
  
“No, it is not Samson.”  
  
Kozmotis noticed Aster shake his head and he glared before he focused on turning down the next name as well.  
  
For two hours, they did this, Kozmotis’s tea growing cold, along with Jack’s coffee.  
  
It wasn’t until after Sandy got there, looking a tad smug, that Kozmotis realized Jack had never even reached for his mug, not even when he paused to think of a name.  
  
And that, like Jack’s smile and his clothing choices, intrigued Kozmotis.  
  
For writing purposes, of course.  
  
He told Sandy as much, later, after Jack had left, never once typing up anything as he sat there, at the booth behind them, alternating between talking to Sandy and teasing Kozmotis.  
  
He was an irritating sort and it would take a miracle for him to pass his classes, Kozmotis was sure of it.


	5. Matchmaking Duties

Sandy smiled into his coffee cup as he watched Jack and Kozmotis bicker over the table.  
  
The new sunglasses covered more of Jack’s face, masking him much better than his old ones, but he cannot hide his bright, white, smile, or stop the laughter that bubbles behind his words.  
  
Sandy had learned, in his silence, how to be the best listener and he could hear the smallest inflictions. He was an observer as well and Jack was at ease with Kozmotis, something rare as most were thrown by his intimidating manner, which had gotten worse after the divorce. And he could see the smile on Kozmotis’s face. It was small and flickering, as delicate as the first bloom of hope in a drought of despair.  
  
Sandy perked up at the line and set down his coffee cup to quickly write down that line in his little notebook of lines he liked to use; though he had a feeling he would use this particular line in the book he was writing after the collaboration. He already knew which character he was going to use it on as well, though he dearly hoped that Kozmotis was at least considering dating (or better yet  _actually dating_ ) Jack Frost when the book came out.  
  
Because Jack’s fun loving personality, warm and coaxing despite his ghostly appearance, was helping Kozmotis’s heart to beat again, and Sandy liked seeing that.  
  
Because Kozmotis was vastly different now then he was in school.  
  
The rather cold way he had turned was frightening, after the divorce, and Sandy was sure that Kozmotis had actually been heavily drinking during the first few months following the divorce and his daughter being cut off from him.  
  
The books of that time were dark and frightening, but brilliant.  
  
They had made Kozmotis’s penname a household name, practically, and now Sandy was watching the way Jack coaxed the old Kozmotis out of hiding, the man who smiled lightly, and warmly, who let out a tiny snort through his nose of amusement at whatever name Jack tried to stab him with today.  
  
And Sandy was watching Jack.  
  
The way he smiled and the way he shifted his head slightly with every other word, almost as if he was unable to keep Kozmotis in his sights. Sandy frowns a bit, but he does not ask. He is not sure if he wants to know the answer, but Kozmotis is now smiling a real smile at the newest name, (“I hear Kerrington is on the rise once more,”), and Sandy smiled at it as well.  
  
It was the closest to Kozmotis’s real name.  
  
And then Tooth fluttered over with a grin. “So, Jack, what are you going to be for Halloween?” she asked and Jack looked over, his head shifting slightly once more.  
  
“Um…what?” he questioned.  
  
“Oh, right, sorry. I host a party every year for Halloween! We had to have it late this year, but you’re invited!” she explained.  
  
Sandy watched Jack freeze almost.  
  
No, he  _did_  freeze!  
  
It was like watching a pond ice over, slowly at first, naturally so, until all of a sudden, it was as if it had always been frozen and no one was the wiser, except for Sandy of course (who, naturally, wrote the pond comparison down as it would do no good to forget it), and Jack shook his head. “No, I can’t. I’m sorry Tooth, but I really do need to type up my essays,” he answered, polite and jovial.  
  
And scared.  
  
Sandy could hear that, like ice cracking. Jack smiled a bit and then tugged on his hoodie string, before he smiled. “Oh, okay. Don’t spend that night at a bar, all right?” she returned and Jack laughed, gently and it rang false in Sandy’s ears, and he wondered if Kozmotis could hear it too.  
  
But Tooth left and Jack turned to Kozmotis. “Well, I’m afraid I am out of names, save one, and I know that it isn’t your real one,” Jack answered, but Kozmotis gave a smile.  
  
“Oh?” he asked.  
  
“Yes. It is a pleasure to meet you, Pitch Black. I have five of your books on audio-book.  _The Butterfly of the Stars_  is my favorite,” Jack answered with a smile, and Kozmotis jerked back in surprise, the smile gone, and Sandy was in awe of Jack in that moment.  
  
 _The Butterfly of the Stars_  was considered Pitch Black’s greatest failure.  
  
It was also Kozmotis’s daughter’s favorite book and it was the only one he had read himself in the audio book versions, earning back in audio books what the book had failed to bring in.  
  
“See, when I first heard your voice, I thought I recognized it, so I pulled out every audio book I owned and listened to them all. Lost two days of sleep, but it was well worth it when I found your voice again. I just didn’t know your real name and I was hoping I would guess it,” Jack continued and Sandy wanted to hug him.  
  
Mostly because, of the two Jack would not be stupid.  
  
No, Sandy could tell Kozmotis would be difficult. “Kozmotis. My real name is Kozmotis Pitchner,” Kozmotis gave in and Jack smiled.  
  
“Well, I was close once. I have to go through and leave you two to your collaboration,” Jack answered, sounding almost cheerfully smug, and Sandy is surprised as well, for their voices have been low and usually they are vague, often with Kozmotis saying Sandy is being his sounding board and the arguments clear his head.  
  
Jack, however, already has his messenger bag over his shoulder and he’s moving away.  
  
It is Sandy, however, when he is alone and making sure that everything is cleaned up that he sees the iPod touch. He frowns a bit and turns it over in his hands, to find there is an engraving that Jack has covered with a careful sticker that requests of this is found to call a number or to email.  
  
Sandy can see where the engraving is under the sticker, can see the slight impressions and the places at the top and bottom that it peeks out, but he does not know what it said. Instead, he brings out his laptop again, and he emails Jack.  
  
A response is immediate.  
  
It is an address Sandy knows, it is Tooth’s but it is on the tenth floor, not the third, and in an odd number apartment, not an even. Sandy commits it to memory and closes up his laptop.  
  
And then he goes to Jack’s home.


	6. Jack's Apartment

Sandy knocks and Jack opens the door. “Please shut the door after you, Sandy,” was Jack’s only request and he moved slowly, his sunglasses in place, and Sandy nodded a bit, shutting the door, and locking the door, the deadlock within easy reach, as he was 4’ tall, though he had barely reached it.  
  
He turned around and found Jack removing his sunglasses as he approached the coffee table and hissed when his knee hit it. “Damn it, she moved it again,” he hissed out, a thread of frustration in his voice and Sandy saw the coffee table easily from his position by the door, clear of everything except a hardback copy of  _The Butterfly of the Stars_  in the center, turned slightly to the side as if it had been thrown carelessly there and abandoned, even as Jack carefully dropped his sunglasses right on top of them.  
  
And Sandy knew then, when Jack fully looked at him, bright, brilliant, blue eyes showing nothing different, except that they could not look at him.  
  
Knew what Jack hid behind warm smiles and sunglasses.  
  
Behind his gentle rebukes to visit friends’ homes and the way Jack’s head searched.  
  
But Sandy could not ask, even as his eyes darted to what he now realized were pointless murals along the walls that surrounded Jack in the ocean and dolphins. The pointless paintings that were all beach oriented and painted with such nostalgic love that it made Sandy’s heart ache. “Don’t sign or write this to anyone?” Jack asked softly.  
  
Sandy walked forward and gently took Jack’s hand, and hooked his pinky with Jack’s.  
  
The smile was the most relieved he had ever seen.  
  
It was also, Sandy realized with a saddened heart, the  _happiest_  smile Sandy had ever seen of Jack’s face. 

* * *

Sandy sat next to Jack at the invitation and Jack seemed to take a great comfort with it, as if a great burden had been lifted. The short author figured that a burden  _had_  been.

He was no longer keeping a secret.  
  
“You know what is ironic?” Jack asked, but Sandy knew it was rhetorical.  
  
He shook his head anyway.  
  
“My eyes are light sensitive. And I lost my night vision first. Can’t see a thing in the darkness and have watery vision in the light. Well, for so long as I have my vision. But…it’ll be great fun, don’t you think Sandy? Learning how the world is without sight?” Jack asked and he really is smiling.  
  
Sandy takes Jack’s hand and sets it on his head before he nods. Jack grins and carefully pulls his hand away, sitting in the quiet.  
  
Sandy at first worries, at least until Jack offers to make tea and Sandy nods. Jack then smiles and nods as he stands up, maneuvering easily in his home. He pulls the kettle from the cupboard and talks of how he only has chamomile and he hopes that’s okay. Sandy heads over and takes Jack’s free hand, gently resting it on his head to nod.  
  
Jack smiles and gently nudges Sandy. “Not in the kitchen little man. I don’t want to trip and drench you in boiling hot water,” he stated and continued to make the tea, his movements sure once Sandy is gone, Sandy knocking on the wall as he passes.  
  
Jack, he soon realizes, doesn’t need words to fill the silence.  
  
He prefers sound, if the fact music fills the air after Jack gets up to turn on the radio, but he is content (not happy) to sit in silence.  
  
Sandy hands him his iPod once the tea is drunk and the mugs washed.  
  
Jack thanks him for bringing his school books back. His eyes miss Sandy, but not by much.  
  
He then offered to show Sandy around and Sandy agreed. He closed his eyes, explaining his eyes were straining trying to see in his narrow tunnel of vision.  
  
But even with his eyes closed, he is able to describe the paintings perfectly, and it is a small apartment, but it suits Jack’s needs. He does not need to touch the wall while in his home, for he knows where everything is, and he is far more at ease then Sandy has ever seen him.  
  
When Sandy gets done and he pats Jack’s arm before he heads for the door, knocking on the table as he passes. Jack follows and smiles at him. “I’ll be at the coffee shop next week,” he explained as he unlocked the door.  
  
Sandy is surprised when Jack’s hand finds his head and Sandy nods.  
  
He will see Jack next week.  
  
He shuts the door behind him and Jack locks it once more.  
  
When the party is going on seven floors below Jack three days later, Sandy thinks of pointless paintings and murals and wondered who painted both.  
  
It is obvious, when he thinks back upon the works of art, that they were painted by the same person who almost seemed to know he, or she, would never see the sights that were painted again.  
  
Kozmotis frowned when Sandy did so as well. “Whatever is the matter?” Kozmotis asked.  
  
Sandy just shook his head, his Napoleon hat nearly flying off his head, and signed,  _”I think Jack would have liked this.”_  
  
Kozmotis considered and then he nodded.  
  
Sandy smiled and Kozmotis then ruined it by saying, “He shouldn’t procrastinate.”  
  
If he could, Sandy would have screamed, would have shaken Kozmotis, and snarl,  _”He doesn’t procrastinate you moron! He can’t see! He’s **blind**! You’re a writer! You’re supposed to be observant! Use your  **eyes**!”_  but he can’t.  
  
And even if he could, he wouldn’t.  
  
Because he promised Jack that he wouldn’t.  
  
He’s still not sure if he made the right choice.  
  
So, instead, he throws his hands into the air and storms off.  
  
Because he cannot shake Kozmotis, and he cannot say what he knows, so instead he storms away from the source of his frustration.  
  
And he wonders how Jack can smile so brightly when he carries such a secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, I was not going to reveal Jack's blindness for a few more chapters. However, Sandy is observant.
> 
> Kozmotis is too, when he's not being an idiot.
> 
> Jack has Retinitis pigmentosa, which is an inherited, degenerative, eye disease that can either effect the eyes in a various ways. Jack's, specifically, is Tunnel vision (no peripheral vision), and slowly narrowing his field of vision until he will be completely blind.
> 
> His eyes will never look like the stereotypical eyes of a blind person, according to the research I did.


	7. College

“Jack,” the professor, Henry Palmer, called and Jack stood up slowly, stumbling when someone tried to trip him on purpose and there were snickers while Jack stared pointedly ahead, his rage hidden behind too big sunglasses and a lopsided smile on his face.  
  
He pulled his folding cane out of his messenger bag and unfolded it, and began to make his way down the steps. He deftly avoided the bags people left out as he made his way to the front of the room and found his way to the constantly moving piano bench. He carefully sat down, once he reassured himself the piano was right there, and folded his cane back up, sliding it into his hoodie pocket.  
  
He pushed his hood back and he heard the sound of a door opening and he settled his hands on the piano keys.  
  
He ran his hands down them, without pushing on them, until he settled his hands in the proper spot. And then he began to play Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata.  
  
He did not care that it was popular, and he did not care that it had been played twice before during the week, he just focused on playing the song, closing his eyes behind his sunglasses, easing his headache away as he continued to play, his fingers easily finding the needed keys, playing the music and letting it go.  
  
And then it peters off and he carefully pulls his hands back. “Well, that’s all we have time for class. Jack, I need to talk to you,” Professor Palmer stated and Jack nodded not standing up, even as he heard everyone moving. He heard someone let out a sound as they were bumped into, but Jack just keeps his eyes closed, because his head hurts and he wants to go home.  
  
“And please go wait for me in my office, Ms. Saini. I will speak with you there,” Professor Palmer added and Jack heard Ms. Saini huffed, maybe about to protest when Professor Palmer snaps, “I have a student to talk with Ms. Saini and I will not do it here with you.”  
  
There is a low sigh, a hiss of a breath, and a slam of a door.  
  
Professor Palmer let out a sigh and Jack felt Professor Palmer sit next to him. “Jack, you were supposed to play Mozart’s Piano Sonata No. 6,” he stated calmly and Jack looked away, before he reached out, moving until he got his hands into position for half of  _Heart and Soul_ , playing it.  
  
Professor Palmer sighed again and suddenly shifted, joining Jack. “What happened?” he asked.  
  
“I couldn’t memorize it in time and I wasn’t bringing the very expensive Braille music sheets here,” Jack retorted calmly, playing from memory, remembering his mother leaning over him and guiding his hands on days his head pounded and his only solace was in the piano as his vision waivered, unable to paint because he just could not, not that day.  
  
“I can only give you partial credit,” Professor Palmer stated.  
  
Jack shrugged and finished off the song. “Will that be all Professor?”  
  
“That will be all Jack. You better hurry. You have fifteen minutes to your next class,” the barely older man answered and Jack nodded, standing up. He unfolded his cane and he walked out, easily moving to his next class, his memory leading him far more easily than his any helper.  
  
Downright useless they were.  
  
“Irritating too,” he muttered, even as he began to make his way up the flight of steps.  
  
He just wanted to go to the coffee shop.  
  
But…  
  
He sighed softly and paused on the steps.  
  
And then he turned around, and headed back down.  
  
He was going to go to the coffee shop and he would shoulder the inevitable phone call and not hang up immediately.  
  
Or ignore it.  
  
Either or.  
  
He folded up his cane once he was at the familiar corner and headed down the block, the cane safely tucked away in his messenger bag.  
  
It was time to return to new friends.


	8. Fears

Kalindi giggled as Jack swung her down and Jack tensed as Tooth’s arms wrapped around him, though Jack hugged her back once he remembered what he was supposed to do.  
  
He had not been hugged by an adult for over half a lifetime before he met Tooth and it took a while for him to remember how to respond, each time.  
  
He hoped that would change soon.  
  
“Tooth, good to see you too,” he responded.  
  
“Why didn’t you say ‘hi’ to me earlier?” she demanded and felt his eyebrows come together in confusion, a small frown tugging at his face.  
  
“When earlier?” he questioned.  
  
“At the college! I had to go talk to Henry and he made you stay after!” Tooth answered and Jack feels his heart pound, and his chest almost ache. He wants to run now, because his worlds are colliding. He doesn’t like it when his worlds collide, the three he has where he is neither himself nor not and nestled in between is his apartment with murals and paintings he can no longer enjoy, except by memory.  
  
This colliding never ends well for him, but he manages a laugh.  
  
“Sorry Tooth. I was sort-of irritated with him and I didn’t want to snap at you. Wouldn’t be fair,” he responded and she leaned up, giving him a kiss on the cheek, playful and teasing and he feels himself flush bright enough to glow, he is sure.  
  
His face is hot and she laughs, tapping his nose before she is off and away. There is a sharp smack sound and Tooth lets out a yelping giggle sound. “Oh, Uncle Aster and Mama are playing again,” Kalindi answered and Jack laughs, because he does not know what happened, but he is sure Tooth and Aster are not together.  
  
Instead, he holds an arm out for Kalindi and she laughs before she wraps her arms around his forearm and he  _lifts_  , bending down to help ease her over his shoulder and stands, the girl laughing brightly.  
  
He does not mention that he missed her colors completely, his eyes unable to find her small form with pinpricks.  
  
He keeps his eyes closed for the rest of his stay at the coffee shop.  
  
Or he would have, if he did not feel a hand clasp on his shoulder, heavy and nearly upsetting him, causing his eyes to snap open automatically, while a voice, booming and loud, greets him with a jovial, “Jack! We have missed you!”  
  
He pants softly and he moves, his hood falling back and there is a soft sound of surprise. He knows his hair blends into his skin, and he shoves off the hand so he can pull the hood back up, settling it so it rests against the top of his sunglasses. “I don’t fancy sunburn,” he answered brightly with a smile into the silence and Kalindi sits on his lap, snuggling.  
  
“You’re like snow,” she answered and Jack laughs because it is far more accurate then he would care to admit.  
  
He is like the snow and he will be gone when the spring comes, if his father has any say in it.  
  
So, instead, he hugs Kalindi and responds, “Well, I hope I am warmer than that!”  
  
And he gets a laugh.  
  
It is crystal clear and bright and Jack easily finds her forehead and gives her a warm kiss.  
  
She hugs him tight and he hugs her back, holding her tight before he sets her on the ground and shoos her to get her homework.

* * *

Jack is talking Kalindi through her math problems when Kozmotis walks through the door, all prickly temper and curled lips that reveal sharper than normal canines. Tooth gets him chamomile tea and puts it on the house and he turns, ready to strike out, but stills upon seeing Jack.

Jack is smiling and shaking his head as Kalindi threw her pencil down. He is repeating questions when she gets frustrated, but with different words as she looks for her pencil, Jack refusing to help her as she was the one who threw it.  
  
And Kozmotis is still as he watches them, and Tooth looks between them, wondering what the author is seeing that she is not.  
  
But she does see the locket out in the open, and the way he holds his cup of tea easily in one hand while the other is tracing the butterflies that dance across the surface. And then he sets the cup down, asks, “What does Jack usually get?”  
  
And Tooth is shocked, because Kozmotis, if he comes on his own, always sits in a corner and broods. “Green tea, when he can get it. Otherwise, he drinks coffee, black,” Tooth answered.  
  
She hesitated and then added, “His favorite, however, is Aster’s Jasmine tea.”  
  
She shrugged at Kozmotis’s glare and answered, “He does not get it often and, more often than not, he ends up not drinking what he orders, which might be why.”  
  
He rolled his eyes at that and said, “A to-go thing of his favorite.”  
  
Tooth gets it because she does not want to think of the implications she is hearing.  
  
The age difference scares her a little.  
  
Jack is barely old enough to drink and Kozmotis in his early thirties (though she doesn’t know his exact age), and she wants to protect Jack, keep him safe. But just because Kozmotis acts a bit like he did two years ago doesn’t mean he’s  _attracted_  to Jack, right?  
  
But she gives him the tea and Kozmotis pays for it before he walks over to where Jack is. “Mr. Pitch!” Kalindi greets and Jack turns to face him. The smile is different and Tooth lets out a quiet ‘oh, no’.  
  
Because she knows that look, though on Jack’s face it is oddly subdued, probably because she can’t see his eyes, and it is the look of someone love-struck.  
  
“Hello Kozmotis,” Jack greeted, and Kozmotis, while she cannot see his face  _can_  see his shoulders. And she sees how they relax.  
  
“Jack,” Kozmotis answered and he set the to-go cup directly in front of him before sitting next to Jack.  
  
And now she can’t see Jack, but she can see the way Kozmotis is staring down at Kalindi’s homework and tutting over it.  
  
They’re still there when Tooth leaves for home, Kalindi in tow.  
  
And she still isn’t convinced this won’t end in Jack’s heart shattering into a million pieces.


	9. North's Workshop

Nicholas St. North smiles as he carefully works on the last of the finishing touches on the porcelain horse before he, carefully, set it to the side when the bell rang within his sight. He smiled a bit and stood up. “Phil, focus on toys, yes? I must go help Holly,” he stated and headed to the front of the bustling toy shop, eager laughter filling the air as he saw the madly dashing woman running from spot to spot, wrapping up presents within a manner of heartbeats, and ringing the up twice as fast.

Maniacal energy ran off her in waves and she was nearly vibrating off her pointy-toed shoed feet. North immediately placed his large hands on her shoulders and rumbled out, “Calm Holly. You cannot expect to do this all yourself. What you need help with?”

“Oh, Nick, thank goodness! He’s over there and he won’t let me help him! And he just keeps _touching_ things!” Holly exclaimed and North looked over to find Jack standing there, gently tracing one of the wooden reindeer.

“Worry not, Holly. Just Jack. I’ll take care of it,” he explained and he walked over. “Jack!” he called and Jack looked over, wearing his blue hoodie, though the hood was down and, like always, his large sunglasses covered most of his upper face and the pocket was lowered, as if something heavy was hidden within it.

“Mr. North,” he responded, giving a small smile and he shifted, pulling his hand away before shoving both into his front pocket.

This close, he could see Jack had a messenger bag and Jack let out a low sigh. “I want to get Kalindi something for her birthday. She was chatting about a puppy and I was hoping to get her something that would last beyond the puppy phase,” he explained.

North hummed a bit as he ran a hand over his moustache and beard in thought, nodding to himself. “It will cost, but I can make something for her. Want it wrapped so I can bring to coffee shop?” North asked and Jack shook his head.

“No. I’ll wrap it myself. Thanks,” Jack answered and North told Jack to come back in a few days.

He would have it done then.

* * *

Jack ran his hands over the stuffed dog, smiling at it and the way it was. It was fluffy and it wore a sweater-vest, which he found adorable. He smiled a little as he continued to trace, eyes tightly closed. He shook a little and, almost, wished he could see how it looked.

Or that it was his.

He then sighed and, carefully, settled it into the box he was using, tracing along to make sure it was fully closed before he picked up the sharpie from where he had placed it next to the book. With careful and practiced ease, he settled a paper to work as his ‘line’ and he wrote, in cursive, _To Kalindi_ across the top, and _From Jack_ across the bottom.

He smiled and taped it shut before he heard a knock on the door.

He looked up and walked over to the door.

Another knock, low on the door, and he opened it. “Sandy?” he called and he felt someone, hands he knew, grab his hand to put it on a fluffy head of hair he knew.

Course strands slipped through Jack’s fingers and he smiled. “I wasn’t expecting company. Come in,” he stated and slipped away from the door, grinning as it was shut.

“I can’t go to Kalindi’s birthday party, I have a date. First date, actually. A fully blind date, on both parts,” he joked and Sandy tapped his leg, followed by the sound of Sandy sitting on the couch.

Jack sat down next to him and could _feel_ the irritation coming off Sandy’s in _waves_. Jack smiled a bit and leaned against the back of his sofa, resting his head on his hand. “Sandy, what’s up?” Jack asked and was surprised when Sandy let out a sigh.

“Can you take the present for me?” Jack asked.

A hand took his wrist and the coarse hair, hair that Jack knew better than his own, was under his hand.

And then Sandy nodded.

“Thanks,” Jack stated.

Sandy nodded again.

Jack smiled and withdrew his hand eyes closing behind his sunglasses.

He heard Sandy make a frustrated sound and Jack said, “My date isn’t till seven. And it is five now. Her party is at 7:30.”

A hand pat his knee and Jack smiled.

It was good to know he could still read people even when he couldn’t see.


	10. A Missing Story

Sandy pounded on Jack’s door the next morning, concerned.

He had come up after Kalindi’s birthday party, but there had been no answer.

And if there was no answer today, he was going to…

“Are you Mr. Sandy?” a voice asked behind him and Sandy turned to face the door opposite and a smiling, very androgynous, person was at the door.

Sandy nodded and the person gave Sandy a letter with a grin. “Jack, the sweet boy, said you might be up. He said he was in a rush, so I wrote it for him. He woke up late, the poor thing. He hates this, but he had no choice. But, I have to get ready for rehearsal, so I am glad you came. I’m Cherry, in case you were wondering,” the person (woman, maybe) explained, the voice too neutrally pitched for Sandy to tell.

Sandy gave a smile and mimed tipping his hat, which made Cherry laugh. “You’re sweet, like a cinnamon bun. Come chat me up anytime,” she stated and slipped back inside, the door shutting firmly.

Sandy opened the note and started when a key dropped out into his hand as well, a blue string tied to it.

And then he focused on the note.

_Hey Sandy, sorry I had to rush. Cherry, that’s the lady across the hall from me, promised she’d get this note to you I had to take a train into the city. I forgot or I would have ditched the date to be with Kalindi, at least. That is a key to my apartment, don’t lose it. I lose mine on occasion, so I give spares to people I trust. Cherry has one too, and actually made a copy of hers so I could give this to you. Test it and tell me if it is good. Please don’t abuse the key._

_Jack_

_P.S. Don’t freak out when I have a bruise on Monday. Will explain when I get back._

Sandy, of course, did have a mild panic attack over the fact Jack had a bruise, but as Jack was not  _here_ , he was in the city, there was nothing he could do about it. He frowned a bit at the note and tapped his fingers against it before sighing, pocketing the key, and leaving.

* * *

Jack Frost, come Sunday night, was muttering curses as he opened his apartment door, a brilliant bruise still aching on the left side of his face before he hauled himself, and his suitcase, inside, locking the door behind him and dropping the keys into the bowl by the door. He dragged his suitcase in and let out a curse as he hit his coffee table. “Damnit Alice, I am taking your key!” he shouted into the apartment and there was a snort from the kitchen.

“Watch your language. What happened to your face?” Alice, voice light and airy, and he turned to the voice before he yanked off his sunglasses glaring in her direction.

“None of your concern, and none of his either. Why are you here and what do you want?” Jack demanded.

“Jack, you haven’t been answering his phone calls, or his messages. And you--” Alice began and Jack interrupted with a sharp, “Give me your key and get out of my apartment!”

The stunned silence filled the air and Jack held out his hand to her. There was a soft jingling and then a key was placed into his. “Wrong, key,” Jack stated.

She took it back and there was more jingling and a second was set there. He closed his hand around it and pointed. “Out, Alice. And if it takes me three damn hours to find the kettle again, I  _will_  pull you from my emergency contacts as well!” he snarled and he heard hurried footsteps, muffled in the carpet (he was talking to the landlord and getting tile put in) and there was a hurried click of a door. He followed and walked to the door before locking it with a quiet fury.

He then leaned against the door and wondered how soon…

The phone ringing made Jack snarl before he stormed over to his moved, again, coffee table and move it back, double checking that the book was still there before he dropped sunglasses on the book and covered his face, wincing when he touched his bruise. His machine picked up and a quiet sigh filled the air, slightly distorted from the machine.  _“Jack, I know you are there. Please, pick up. Alice said you were in a bad mood and you were hurt .Jack…Jack, please?”_

The voice was soft and gentle. It was one that made Jack stalk away to his bedroom, dragging his suitcase and pretend he didn’t hear the pleading to pick up. He dumped all the clothes into his hamper before he settled on the bed, curling up and shoving his hands over his ears, humming as loudly as he dared any song that leapt to his head until he fell asleep, exhausted and still clothed.

Because, if Jack was the master of anything, it was avoiding people he did not want to speak to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this took so long!
> 
> Originally, I was going to write the date, but that just refused.
> 
> Then I was going to write Jack and Sandy meeting, but that didn't work.
> 
> And then I remembered 'Cherry.' And I decided she could enter early.
> 
> Which brought up this.
> 
> Now, who is Alice, why was Jack worried about the book, and who is the guy Jack is ignoring?
> 
> (We're getting there. Along with someone _else_ discovering Jack is blind.)


	11. Monday Talks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I found some of my _really_ old notes.
> 
> As in "here are some possibly plot points I need to hit".
> 
> So...sorry this took so long and enjoy!

Aster didn't look up as he heard the bell jingle overhead, but he  _did_  when he heard the sounds of someone hitting a table, followed by muffled cursing.

Jack Frost stood there, trying to right himself, his messenger bag over his shoulder, and a dark bruise across the left side of his face that probably looked worse than it actually was. "Are you blind?" Aster asked in a teasing tone, but frowned when Jack seemed to tense.

He watched as Jack, despite the tenseness, reached into his messenger bag and pulled out a folded white thing.

When it unfolded, Aster felt his mouth dry and a deep desire to take back his words. "Legally I am," Jack answered as he carefully made his way around until he was at the register.

"Why did you change everything around?" Jack asked and Aster managed to focus on the conversation and not the white cane Jack held in his grasp.

"Tooth wanted a change. She gets bored sometimes," Aster answered and he took Jack's order before he accepted the credit card.

"This is new," he stated and the look that stole across Jack's face, the twist of lips, almost scared Aster.

But it was gone instantly and Jack sighed, slumping slightly. "My  _father_ ," and the venom that spills from the word tells Aster enough about  _that_  relationship, "said that he would "feel better" about me being "helplessly trapped in the world of the sighted" if I had a credit card. My response was not one I shall repeat, and from there, we had a lovely, violent, argument where I broke a few things in his office and from there I was given an ultimatum. Take the credit card, or move into an apartment of his choosing in the city, which would mean no...independence. My  _father_  will do his best to steal the very last of it from me and lock me up, because "that is what is best" for me. So, I picked the credit card and then said something not very nice again, and came home," Jack answered.

"I get the father problems Frostbite. Maybe not to your extent, but I get it. Your da do that to your face?" he asked.

Jack shook his head. "No. For all his shortcomings, he'd never actually hit me. No...no, I got this from...from someone I knew once. It doesn't matter," Jack answered softly and shrugged a little.

"Kid, you got a bruise that covers nearly half your face. I think it matters," Aster stated.

Jack ignored him and made his way to an out of the way booth, folding up his cane and shoving it into the pocket of his hoodie. Aster watched him and then left it alone.

* * *

Aster closed up and sat across from Jack, the college student having spent the whole day in the coffee shop.

The whole day, at that booth, where Jack had talked to Sandy for a bit, but the mute author had not gotten an answer out of Jack about the bruise either. "Okay Frostbite, talk to me," Aster stated, sipping some left over coffee.

Jack snorted. "What's there to talk about?" he questioned, twisting his mug around on the table, the laptop having long been stowed away.

"Did you go blind in an accident?" Aster questioned and Jack shook his head, pulling his hood over his forehead more, instead of pushing it back like he did when around Kalindi.

"No. I've been going blind since I was born. I always knew what was happening, in a manner of speaking, and I watched my world slowly tunnel out. It was...well, I couldn't change it, so I got excited about it instead. I was experiencing something new, something...different. And it would always make my life an adventure. Of course, I'm not always like this. Some days I scream and rage and curse that this is happening to me, but not usually," Jack answered and Aster hummed a bit.

"Nice attitude Frostbite."

"Thanks Bilby."

Aster sighed at that, but hid his smile in the rim of his coffee cup.


	12. A Puzzle With No Picture

Kozmotis smiled as he settled across from his publisher, Manfred Lunati, and noticed immediately the small changes in the office.

Mainly the missing decorative items, such as the fragile porcelain statuettes that were mostly just there to collect dust, a few vases, and the one thing that was replaced, which was the picture frame that held the picture of Manfred’s son.

He had never seen the picture, and he wasn’t nosy enough to try and see it, unlike Sandy. “Kozmotis,” Manfred greeted and Kozmotis smiled at him, standing up as the man entered.

Kozmotis was taller than him by a handful of inches and Manfred waved at him to sit down. “Please, have a seat,” Manfred stated softly and settled behind his desk.

“I got those new pages you sent, for your book after the collaboration. I have to say…it is your most inspired work yet. You’re writing from the heart again Kozmotis, and I have to say it looks good,” Manfred stated and Kozmotis gave a smile.

“Thank you,” Kozmotis answered and Manfred waved his hand a little before he reached forward to shift the picture slightly.

“The main character he’s…different from your usual type,” Manfred stated, pale gray eyes, nearly silver, never leaving the picture frame.

“Yes, he is, isn’t he?” Kozmotis mused softly, thinking over the character that had risen, unbidden, in his mind, begging to have a tale to be told and a whisper to be heard.

“Alice tells me Marie didn’t get these pages,” he continued and Kozmotis’s hands clenched on the arms of his chair before he forced himself to release.

“My _ex_ has no idea what I talk to my daughter about,” Kozmotis hissed.

Manfred looked up then. “Oh, good. Last time I brought her up, you referred to her still as your _wife_. I’m glad to see you are healing from the divorce,” Manfred answered and Kozmotis felt himself scowl at Manfred.

Kozmotis wanted to protest, say that it wasn't so, but he knew it to be true. "Maybe I've finally seen she is right in this matter," he responded.

"But that isn't it," Manfred stated, his eyes returning to the picture frame.

Kozmotis doesn't answer, but his silence is answer enough.

"What happened to the original frame?" Kozmotis answered.

"It gave its life valiantly to a college student. He was quite angry and it took a great deal of time to get everything cleaned up once he was gone," Manfred answered softly.

Kozmotis raised an eyebrow. "Did you call security?"

Manfred shook his head. "No. He needed to rage and the only things harmed were decorative pieces. That, and the picture frame was an accident."

Kozmotis snorted a little, but gave a nod, letting it drop. They spoke about the collaboration for a while, then about Kozmotis's next standalone book again, and he even handed over new pages before he stood. "Is Thanksgiving dinner with the Coffee Hop still happening?" Manfred asked.

"Yes. Is your son coming home?" Kozmotis asked.

Manfred shook his head. "No. Not that I blame him. Alice letting you see Marie this Thanksgiving?" Manfred asked and Kozmotis shook his head.

"I'm sorry," Manfred stated and Kozmotis merely nodded, before they parted.

He ignored Alice, who worked as Manfred's personal assistant, and made his way down to his car quickly.

He needed a drink.

A lot of them.

* * *

Kozmotis finds the small bar back home, outside of the city, and sits at the bar. He has scotch on the rocks, though he doesn’t particularly want his drink mixed with _anything_ , the ice keeps him from just slamming it back.

He does drink it down quickly though, and asks for another.

“Hey,” a familiar voice greets and Kozmotis looks over to find Jack there.

He’s still wearing his trademark of blue hoodie and sunglasses, but the hood is pushed back, revealing the fact his hair blends with his skin.

The gloves he usually wears are gone, allowing his fingers to stand out starkly against the glass of dark liquid he was tapping against. “Go. Away,” Kozmotis responded and Jack chuckled at that.

“Bad day then. I get the feeling,” Jack stated and Kozmotis turned to snap at him when he noticed an odd coloring on the student’s left cheek.

He reached out carefully and gently grasped Jack’s chin (and noticed how even his pale skin looked dark against Jack’s skin) to turn his face slightly to investigate the healing bruise. The colors stood out sharply, like paint on a canvas, and he huffed a bit.

“Who did you piss off?” Kozmotis asked.

“It isn’t as bad as it seems,” Jack responded, not pulling back and Kozmotis released him with a soft scoff.

“You didn’t answer my question and that doesn’t matter.”

Jack huffed and took a long pull from whatever it was he was drinking. “You and Aster both. And Sandy. Seriously, what is with the three of you wanting to know this?” he muttered and Kozmotis gave a look.

“Maybe because you’ve been hit hard enough to bruise?”

“Maybe it only looks that way because I have no skin pigment?” Jack snapped back and Kozmotis huffed softly.

“Someone still hit you.”

Jack shrugged a bit and stared down at his drink. “I have a family member in the mental hospital in the city. I don’t like to visit her because she kind-of…shuts down. She’s started getting better, but I just set her back. The last clear memory she has of me was when I was eight. She got angry and hit me, and that’s all you need to know,” Jack explained and then frowned in Kozmotis’s direction.

“Don’t you tell a soul. Or write it. Or sign it,” Jack stated and Kozmotis gave a nod.

“My ex-wife is keeping my daughter away from me and I got screwed over in the divorce so I can’t even demand visits,” Kozmotis stated.

“She sounds like a bitch,” Jack returned.

Kozmotis laughed a bit and Jack raised one eyebrow at him, though Kozmotis could barely see the action.

“You know, two months ago, I would have broken your jaw for saying that,” Kozmotis stated.

“And now?”

“Now, I agree,” Kozmotis answered and Jack huffed softly, giving a lopsided smile before he downed the rest of his drink.

“Don’t get too drunk Kozmotis. I’ve got to go. Essays don’t write themselves,” Jack responded and moved to leave when Kozmotis’s hand snapped out with a startled, “Wait.”

Jack stilled and looked back at Kozmotis, lips parted slightly and Kozmotis floundered slightly.

Why had he grabbed Jack?

“Stay? For a bit,” Kozmotis asked, and he wondered why he wanted Jack to stay.

Jack hesitated and then he slid into the seat next to Kozmotis. “Okay.”

Kozmotis gave a shaky smile and downed his next scotch on the rocks as fast as he can before he’s ordering another.

(Kozmotis doesn’t remember much from that evening, but he remembers how he got Jack to laugh at something he had said, twice.)

(When he wakes the next morning, in a hotel, the only signs of last night are a pounding hangover and a note from Jack swearing that nothing untoward happened last night.)

(He’s not sure if he’s disappointed or relieved.)


	13. A Surprise

"I don't want to talk about it," Kozmotis snapped the moment he saw Sandy grinning at him that Saturday he woke up in the hotel room.

When the man had the  _gall_ to merely smile at him innocently and then the bell jingled. Kozmotis turned around to see Jack coming in, hood pulled up, sunglasses on his face, and walking along with his hand brushing along the furniture. "Hey Frostbite," Aster greeted as Kozmotis flushed slightly and turned around, pointedly ignoring Sandy, who was grinning widely at the blush on Kozmotis's face.

"Don't. Ask," he hissed lowly as Jack began to talk with Aster, when Jack's cell phone began to ring with some sort of fast paced violin music that almost sounded like it could be used for step-dancing.

He heard Jack make an apology and then he was practically shouting, "Hey my little butterfly!"

Kozmotis felt his heart jerk at that and Sandy reached over, gently patting his hand while Jack laughed at something that was said over the phone.

Kozmotis turned at that only to see him smiling brightly, the college student having dropped his hood at some point as he spoke with whoever was on the other end of the phone. "Really? That's great! Have you told him?...No? Why ever not? I'm sure he'd...Oh, it is a _secret_. Not a secret? Oh, a surprise, right," Jack stated and he handed over the credit card to Aster, the Aussie rolling his eyes and lightly smacking Jack upside the back of his head before he swiped the card, handing it back to Jack.

He took it back with a tiny laugh. "Awww, well, I love you too Butterfly. See you on the Sunday after Thanksgiving okay?" Jack answered as he nodded a bit, accepting the travel mug with a beaming grin of thanks before he focused back on the conversation, making his way over to his usual booth.

"Okay, okay! Tell me Sunday Butterfly! Flutter by Butterfly," he answered and hung up with a low sigh as he slumped into the seat, sipping whatever it was he was drinking.

"Who was that?" Kozmotis asked, and Jack looked up with a grin.

"Ah...daughter of a friend of my father's. She's an adorable little thing. Was telling me about a surprise she has put together for her father," he answered with a grin and frowned as the lyrics to  _Bad Moon Rising_ began to play.

He sighed and seemed to debate answering before he did so. "What?" he demanded.

"Yes, yes, I'll be there. I promised didn't I?" Jack grumbled and then he hung up, muttering something unsavory under his breath as the door jingled again.

"Jack!" Kalindi cried and he laughed as the girl immediately began to run over, clambering up next to him and collapsing on him, one of his hands reaching up to catch her.

"Easy there little bird! Hello Tooth!" Jack greeted as Toothiana drifted over to them.

"Hey Jack. Coming to the Thanksgiving party?" she asked.

Jack shook his head and shifted his grip so that Kalindi could, somehow, use him as a climbing post. "No. I made a promise and I have to uphold it. I'm sorry," Jack answered and Aster seemed to eye him before he nodded.

"Well, try to visit us on Friday, or Saturday," Tooth stated and Jack nodded as Kalindi cooed over his cheek, which still was basically an ugly bruise.

Uglier now then before as it healed, Kozmotis raised an eyebrow at Jack, which Jack seemed to ignore. "When are you heading off?" Kozmotis asked.

"Soon, actually. I need to head back into the city. Unfortunately. I hate the city. Especially since I am going to have to dress in a suit and tie and look nice," Jack answered with a low groan at the thought.

He heaved a sigh and then kissed Kalindi on the back of her hand before he urged her off of him. "In fact, I have to head out now. See you Saturday," Jack answered, gently gripping his travel cup before he waved, saying a general good-bye and heading out.

* * *

The Thanksgiving party was held in _The Coffee Hop_ , because it was the only venue that they could get “on the cheap” that would fit everyone.

Kozmotis was wishing for alcohol, wondering why he had to deal with--

“Daddy!” came a familiar shriek and his head snapped over, kneeling to catch his brown-haired Marie in a tight hug.

When he looked up to say thank you, Alice shook his head. “Her bag is here. I’ll pick her up on Sunday,” Alice stated and left.

Kozmotis just wondered what had changed Alice’s mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The violin music?
> 
> It is called _The Butterfly_ by Celtic Woman.


	14. Aftermath of Thanksgiving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has a character vividly describing being in an abusive in an emotional and mental way relationship.
> 
> (Someone being controlling and trying to control their movements with the belief they are "helping" when really they are just being damaging.)
> 
> As that can be triggering, I am warning you.
> 
> I am sorry I didn't originally post this with the chapter.

Jack sighed heavily as, when he headed into the apartments he lived in early on ‘Black Friday’ instead of late Sunday, as it was originally planned, he was told that the elevators were out of order. Placing his overnight bag and the travel suit bag thing onto the ground, he fished his cane out of the pocket of his hoodie, unfolded it, and hefted his two bags over his shoulder before he headed for the stairs.

Ten flights, oh what fun.

It took three flights for Jack to realize that he had no clue how to really get to his apartment from this side of the apartments, something he would have to remedy soon. He knew there were stairs on the other side, next to the elevators, and with a heavy sigh shifted everything around slightly until he could get the door open and walk out. He grunted slightly as the door hit his bags, which in turn sent him stumbling forward a few steps. Taking some time to right himself, he began to walk down the carpeted hallway, swinging his cane in front of him in a small arc before his feet.

While his floor was usually quite clear, mostly because everyone on his floor was either extremely busy or were just on their own, he knew that floors with children often had something settled near the doors. He continued to make his way down, not twitching as he heard a door open up at his back left. “Jack?” Tooth called and Jack stilled, knowing there was no way to hide his cane away in time to turn around and he slowly did so, smiling weakly.

“Hey Tooth,” he responded softly, hearing a soft sound that was, quite possibly, a gasp.

Lovely just…lovely.

* * *

“Why didn't you tell us Jack?” Tooth asked softly, sounding like she was sitting on the coffee table in front of the couch.

After finding him in the hallway, Tooth had invited Jack in, something he had accepted, thankful when Tooth treated him the same as she had before, though he did hear her kicking things out of his way.

“Because my track record with people finding out isn’t that great,” Jack responded with a tiny smile.

“What do you mean?” Tooth asked gently and Jack sighed, even as he leaned forward, carefully setting the mug of coffee down on the coffee table, though away from the edge.

“I don’t make friends easily. My, generally, happy-go-lucky attitude drives people up the wall on occasion and so when they find out I can’t see them, they’re not very nice afterwards, not that they were that nice before. That’s what I consider a good reaction, because at least it is just underestimation. My father and his little personal secretary, who has somehow raised an adorable baby girl, have what I call a bad reaction. The moment they found out I was going blind they immediately decided that I could not possibly take care of myself. I was…not only unable to see the world, but I couldn’t possibly function in it either. They often moved my furniture around to make it ‘easier for me to move around in’, but left me bumping into things and by the time I had that memorized, they moved it again because they saw me bumping into the coffee table. I once accidentally tripped over my cane because I was shifting things around in my hands and it got caught between my ankles and they then decided to try and take it from me so I could only rely on humans to show me around. They try to lead me to wherever I want to go, even if it is just an arm’s length away and hand me my drinks, sometimes when I am not even reaching for them, causing me to spill. Since I spill, they have given me lidded cups if I am there for longer than a day. I just…went to a Thanksgiving party where my father and his secretary refused to let me even interact with anyone, and wouldn’t even let me just sit to the side, one of them keeping me attached to them at the arm or shoulder. They don’t talk to me and my father moves like a cat on carpet, so it freaks me out and the secretary is no better. No, she takes it a whole lot worse, though now she can’t get into my apartment because I took her key, but she used to move my things around to convenience her, and it once took me three hours to find and right everything. And I was just looking for my tea kettle,” Jack explained, barely able to leash his temper and he let out a long breath before he ran his hands over his face, scrubbing them through his hair after.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to…” Jack stated though he trailed off as he tried to think of the words to use and Tooth laughed softly.

“Word vomit all over me?” she inquired and Jack nodded as he fetched his coffee cup to drink it.

Silence fell between them and Tooth sighed. “That…doesn’t sound very healthy,” Tooth stated.

“It isn’t. I highly doubt that they even realize what they are doing is abusive, which is the ironic part. And before that my father and I never talked, he just…was not a talkative person. Still isn’t,” Jack responded.

Silence fell between them once more and Jack sipped his coffee. “Jack…” she began and Jack smiled in her direction.

“I never minded the hugs, Tooth. Especially since I always knew it was you who was hugging me,” he stated.

“How?” Tooth asked and Jack smiled as a bright flash of color, blurry and distant, cut across his very limited vision.

“You always greet me first,” Jack answered and closed his eyes as he finished off his coffee.

Tooth let out a tiny laugh and she gave a word of warning before she settled next to him and Jack hid his smile in his mug of coffee.

* * *

“Jack?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re allowed to make yourself at home.”

“Thanks Tooth. You’re a good mom.”

“Thanks Jack.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Jack vs his father argument, mostly because I couldn't write it believably.
> 
> But...I hope you all enjoyed this update and I am so sorry it took so long.


End file.
